In too Deep
by Shugs
Summary: When Dean awakes to find himself tied to a fence post out in the middle of nowhere; he knows he's in over his head. What he doesn't know, is what happened. As memories start to resurface, so do the terrifying details of a night that's far from being over
1. Sinking like a Stone

Just a short piece set in either season one or two... enjoy.

In too Deep  
>Chapter 1: Sinking Like A Stone<p>

When Dean regained consciousness, all he could focus on was his pounding headache. Every heartbeat hit like a hammer and each time it did, he could feel it in the back of his throbbing head. It was the sound of distant engines roaring through the woods that brought him back to his senses; a small comfort to know that the men who'd done this to him, were finally gone. He didn't know for sure how long he'd been out, but assumed it had been no more than a few minutes if he could still hear them speeding away into the cold, damp night. What had just happened wasn't quite clear, but what he did know without a doubt, was that he was in over his head. He let out a groan as he tried to straighten out, but the ropes and rusty barb wire wrapped around his wrists, held him firmly in place. He swore under his breath, frustrated that everything was a haze inside his pounding head... he couldn't even remember what had led to the situation he currently found himself in. With his hands bound tightly together around an old fence post behind his back, he couldn't really move at all, let alone reach for the flip blade in his pocket to free himself. His mind started to race as he tried to think of a reason why they'd tied him up and left him there... what if they weren't done with him, what if they intended to come back and finish him off?

"You alright Sam?" Dean quietly started, pausing for only a moment as he once again tried to straighten out. "We need to get the Hell out of here before those sons of bitchs come back, any ideas?" He continued, assuming that his younger brother would be tied to one of the other fence posts nearby. When he didn't get a reply, he took a quick glance around, only then realizing that Sam wasn't there with him; something that only added to the worries circling inside his pounding head. The sight of a tall grassy field in front of him was somewhat unsettling, for a moment, he wasn't even sure where he was anymore. Last he remembered, he was in a dirt lot or a clearing of some kind. "Sammy?" He repeated, his voice the only thing he could hear now that the roaring engines had faded away. He listened intently but there was still no reply, only the constant sound crickets & frogs in the night, and a distant knocking that he couldn't quite place. He shivered as the cool air slithered across his face, reminding him of the gash in his cheek and the moment the butt of a pistol had dropped him to his knees in the dirt. The events of the night were a blur, but from what he could remember, things had gone downhill fast.

It had all started with a simple hunt, a small town dealing with as many as twenty missing people spanning the last two decades, all vanishing without a trace from the same stretch of road. Since they were all last seen driving away from a bar just on the outskirts of town, that's where he and his brother had ended up... Didn't take much digging around to figure out that there was nothing supernatural about the job they were working, just a questionable Sheriff with a shady past, an even shadier entourage and a string of botched investigations. As far as they could tell, witness accounts had been ignored, reports had never been filed and ground searches along that stretch of road, had never even been conducted. There was a secret linking all these cases together and the further they went into their own investigation, the more apparent it became that the Sheriff was involved. The man knew much more than he was telling them and when Sam asked if divers had ever been brought in to search a nearby lake, his tone took a drastic turn and their simple hunt went straight to Hell.

Dean put his head back against the old wooden fence post behind him, as bits and pieces slowly started coming back to him. Though the fine details were still just out of reach, the night's events were beginning to get clearer, and the more he remembered, the worse it got. He couldn't recall what Sam and the Sheriff had argued about at the bar, but it was a heated exchange of words that resulted in a string of threats, followed by a menacing order to get the Hell out of town. To diffuse the explosive situation, they did as they were told; but when two old trucks pulled out of the parking lot behind them, it became obvious that they wouldn't be able to just walk away from what they'd stumbled into. He had his foot to the floor and the Impala was quick to respond, but he wasn't able to leave them behind, that's when he realized that he and his brother weren't being followed down that dark winding road, they were being chased. Refusing to become one of the many who were last seen driving down that curvy stretch, he had taken a sharp turn off the main road, hoping to evade the men that were running them down. It didn't work, and before he knew it, the paved road had turned to washed out gravel and Sam couldn't find it on the map he was desperately trying to read with nothing more than a flashlight. When they suddenly emerged from the woods, crashing through a closed gate in the process, he had been forced to hit the brakes and bring the car to a skidding stop. In front of them; a steep slope overlooking the lake, behind them, a handful of men ready to make sure their secret wasn't going to surface any time soon. The last thing he remembered was stepping out of the car as the two old trucks came racing out of the woods behind them. The Sheriff was there, but he couldn't even remember if there had been another exchange of words or if maybe this time, it had been gunfire.

When a strange sound caught his attention, breaking him from his scattered thoughts and scarce memories, Dean turned slightly to take a glance behind him; swearing under his breath as the simple movement brought something else to mind. The sharp pain that pulled at his left shoulder suddenly put into focus the very moment the Sheriff's bullet had torn through his flesh. He had been shot... How he could have forgotten such a thing was beyond him, but now that the searing pain was there to remind him, he could remember turning away as the other man stepped out of the truck, a loaded gun in his hand. It had all happened so fast, next thing he knew he took a hit to the face and he was down for the count. He swallowed hard, ignoring the pain as he craned his neck to see around the fence post he was tied to. Barely able to see what was behind him, his eyes were instantly drawn to the only source of light; the red glow of the Impala's tail lights down at the bottom of the steep slope. The sight of the car's back end sticking out of the dark water made his heart skip a beat and his breath catch in the back of his throat, that's when all of the missing pieces suddenly fell into place.

What was missing from his thoughts only moments ago, was now so vivid it made his stomach turn. It was the startling conclusion his brother had reached, that had left him in his current predicament. The cars hadn't vanished along that stretch of treacherous road, they'd been dumped into the lake from a lookout nearby; and all of the people who'd been reported missing over that last two decades? They had been murdered at the hands of that small town's Sheriff and his cronies. There wasn't a shred of doubt in his mind that all those victims were still sitting behind the wheel of their cars, in a watery grave some sixty feet below the surface of the dark murky water. That's why the Sheriff flew off the handle when his brother had asked about the lake, and mentioned that local fishermen had reported seeing oil and gas residue floating on the water. The murders had been random but now it was personal, and the second he took that bullet to the shoulder, he knew they were the next to go _'missing'_ along that dark stretch of road. The only difference was that this had been done in haste, and the men would surly be back to cover their tracks and finish him off.

When that strange knocking sound caught his attention once again, his heart sank like a stone. Now that all the missing pieces had finally fallen into place, he knew exactly what that sound was and it chilled him right to the bone. It was Sam, desperately trying to break his way out of the sinking Impala's trunk.


	2. Going Under

Chapter 2: Going Under

The panic set in as Dean watched from the corner of his eye, the Impala slowly start to go under. The pockets of air trapped inside the car were the only thing keeping it afloat, but as those started seeping out and water started rushing in, he knew there wasn't much time before his car would slip below the surface; taking Sam straight down to the bottom with it. He swore under his breath as he struggled to pull his hands free from the ropes, crying out in pain when he felt the rusty barb wire dig into his flesh. Like dozens of sharp teeth grabbing hold, the more he moved his hands around, trying to gain slack and loosen the knots in the rope, the deeper the barbs dug into his wrists. He could now feel the warmth of his own blood in his hands as he continued to tug and pull, desperately trying to free himself before the Impala completely disappeared from sight. Though the pain was unbearable, the thought of what Sam was going through; trapped in the darkness as water surged in, was enough to make him forget about his own agony. When the ropes finally loosened off enough, he sucked in a breath and pulled his hands out in one swift motion; letting out gut-wrenching scream as he ripped his hands free from the barb wire's sharp grasp.

He didn't even bother looking down at them as he pulled himself up off the ground. The last thing he wanted to see right now was the damage he'd just done, he knew it was bad, he could feel it already. Racing down the steep slope towards the lake, his eyes locked on the car's back end jutting out of the water; his baby was sitting at an angle and though the lights were still on, the engine had stalled. His head was pounding, his hands were dripping with blood, each and every step he took reverberated in his wounded shoulder, but the only thing he could think of was Sam. He removed his leather jacket and let it fall to the ground behind him as he entered the frigid water without hesitation; swearing to himself as the cold hit him like thousands of pins and needles. "Hang in there Sammy, I'm coming!" He called out, fighting the cold that surrounded him to make his way over to the car some twenty feet away. In no time, the bottom disappeared from below his feet and he was forced to swim, a movement that brought on a whole new level of pain in his shoulder. Though it had taken less than a minute to make his way out to the car, the seconds seemed to drag on as he struggled through the cold water. "Sammy?" He called out again, reaching to grab a hold of the rear bumper and pulling himself towards it as he tried to catch his breath.

"DEAN! You've got to get me out of here, the water's coming in fast!"

Though he was relieved to hear the other man's muffled voice, he knew that their terrifying ordeal was far from being over. "Just hang in there, Sam!" He replied, doing his best to hide the panic in his voice as he passed a hand over the small lock, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. He needed the keys that were still in the ignition to open the trunk, and that would mean diving down into the dark murky water to retrieve them. Using the rear fender to pull himself through the water, he quickly made his way around the side of the car, his heart pounding right out of his chest as he took a deep breath and went under. He could almost hear the seconds ticking away in the back of his mind as he traced the Impala's curves down to the driver's open window. Wasting no time, he reached into the submerged car, pulled the keys from the ignition and made his way back up to the surface; swearing to himself as he felt the deep breath pull at his injured shoulder. Swimming back to the trunk with the keys in his tight grip, he could feel his body start to shut down... he'd already lost alot of blood and his body temperature was dropping fast. He knew it was only a matter of time now before everything around him would fade to black, but he pushed himself along anyway, hoping that the agonizing pain would be enough of a distraction to keep him from giving in to the darkness that was threatening to take him.

"DEAN, HURRY!"

When the Impala suddenly slipped a few inches below the surface of the water, releasing another one of the air pockets that had been keeping it afloat, his heart sank along with it. "Shit..." He muttered to himself, fumbling with the keys in his bloody hands as the car slowly started slipping under right before his eyes. In one swift motion, he shoved the key into the lock and gave it a turn, pulling the trunk open with one hand as he reached in to grab his brother with the other. It happened so fast, Dean barely had time to react as water came up over the fenders, rushing into the trunk before Sam was even out of it, and sending his beloved Impala straight to the bottom in a matter of only seconds. With little more than a burst of turbulent water and bubbles, the car had vanished right out from under them, leaving them out in the lake with noting to hang onto.

Trying to stay afloat with both hands tied behind his back, Sam soon found himself struggling just to keep his head above the frigid water. "Dean..." He gasped, his words barely coming together as he started coughing. "Dean... the ropes."

With the other man in obvious distress, Dean quickly reached for the blade in his pocket; all the while fighting the pain and exhaustion to keep his own head from going under. "Hold still, I'm going to cut you loose." He said, forcing his younger brother to turn around as he reached into the dark water to grab his bound hands. Though he couldn't see what he was doing, he slipped the blade under the ropes and carefully started slicing until Sam was able to pull his hands apart. "We need to get out of here..." He continued, stating the obvious as both started swimming for the shoreline.

The agony Dean had felt swimming out to the sinking Impala had been nothing compared to what he faced as he and his brother swam back towards the shoreline. The distance hadn't changed, that much he knew, but pushed to the very edge of his physical and mental endurance, he couldn't help but feel as if the swim was taking him twice as long to accomplish. By the time his feet finally touched the bottom, he was so exhausted he could barely walk his way out of the lake; something that didn't go unnoticed by his younger brother.

"Dean?" Sam started, watching as the other man struggled to take a few steps in the shallow water. "Dean, you alright?" He continued, his eyes instantly focusing on the bloody hand Dean had tightly pressed to his chest. Though he knew Dean had been shot, it was the first glimpse he'd had of his brother since the vicious attack, and now that he could actually see what state the other man was in, Sam knew they were in trouble. He swallowed hard, his mind starting to race as he watched the blood and water drip down from his older brother's shaky hands. Cold and soaked to the bone, out in the middle of nowhere with the Impala sitting some twenty five feet underwater... Dean was surely going to bleed to death if hypothermia didn't get to him first.

"Sammy, I can't feel my hands." Dean started, taking a step forward only to collapse to his knees in the muddy water. He was shivering inside and out, his legs giving out under his own weight as his body slowly began to shut down, something he knew was coming all along. "I'm just so..."

"No, come on, we need to get out of the water..." Sam cut in, grabbing the other man by the arm and hoisting him up. "We need to get the Hell out of here..." He continued, half dragging and half walking the other man up onto the shore. As he carefully set his brother down on the grassy bank, he couldn't help but notice the bloody gashes that now circled his wrists; just one more thing that added to their dire situation. "I need you stay with me, ok?" He whispered, catching his eyes only long enough to know he was still conscious. Chilled to the bone himself, he darted back to the shoreline to grab his brother's prized leather jacket; hoping it would keep Dean warm just a little while longer, and praying that the other man's cell phone was in one of the pockets instead of in the car with his. His heart was racing as he sifted through the pockets, breathing a short sigh of relief when he found what he had been looking for. "Just hang in there, Dean." He said, draping the jacket over his brother before flipping the cell phone open and punching down Bobby's number.

Dean watched as his younger brother started to pace, the look on his face telling him all he really needed to know; Sam was beyond worried, there was nothing he could do to hide it from him. "Dude we don't even know where we are..." He said quietly, fighting to keep his focus as he clutched his well worn leather jacket for warmth.

"I think there's a road on the other side of that field we saw on the way in.." Sam was quick to reply, pausing in his steps as he pointed up to the top of slope. "I swear I saw one on the map and if anyone can find us, it'll be Bobby." He said as he started to pace again. When the other line finally picked up, he wasted no time getting straight to the point. "Bobby, we're in trouble." He bluntly stated, his voice echoing in the eerily silent night. "We're not sure where exactly we are, but we're just outside of Scythe, some little back road off the main strip that cuts through town... I need you to come pick us up."

_"Sam, what's wrong? Everything OK?"_ The other man asked, hearing it in his voice the very moment he'd started talking. _"I thought you two were just going out there to check up on some missing person cases that..."_

"Bobby, there's no time to explain." Sam was quick to interrupt. "Dean's hurt pretty bad and I don't have a way of getting him help... I know it's almost three in the morning but I need you to come find us, you need to get us out of here. There's a bunch of..."

_"Just calm down, Sam... you need to tell me where you are..."_

"I don't know, some dirt road that led us right into the woods." Sam continued.

_"I'm going to need more info than that son, do you remember the name of the road?"_

"Bobby, I have no idea what it's called." Sam admitted, sucking in a breath as he felt a chill run down his spine. "But it's not the one that runs alongside the lake and it's not the one that takes you straight through town."

_"Alright well I'll see what I can find on the area, maybe if we're lucky I'll be able to pin point your location using the coordinate from your phone... Just keep the phone on ya, I'll give you a call when I get close to Scythe."_

"Whatever you do, don't talk to the Sheriff... he's the one behind all of this." Sam informed, his eyes once again settling on his older brother nearby. "And please hurry."

_"Just hang in there kid, I'll be there as fast as I can."_ The veteran hunter replied, his voice bringing some confront to the men out in the middle of nowhere.

Sam swallowed hard as he flipped the cell phone shut and tucked it back into the pocket of his older brother's leather jacket. "C'mon Dean get up, we gotta keep moving... Those guys are going to come back for you, and I have no intention of being here when they show up to finish you off."

"Sam, I'm so tired, I can't even..."

"Yes you can and you're going to." Sam cut in, reaching down to help the other man to his feet. The last thing he needed right now, was for the other man to go into shock. "C'mon, get up."

Dean swore under his breath as Sam hoisted him up again, wrapping an arm around his waist just to keep him upright. He knew they needed to get out of there, but he was just so cold, weak and exhausted, he could barely support his own weight. With his younger brother's help and persistence, they started making their way back up the steep slope, back up to where he had been shot, and his brother forced into the trunk of the car. The uphill climb was a struggle, but it was the countless thoughts racing through their heads that made it that much harder. When they finally did reach the top and Sam paused to catch his breath, Dean couldn't help but take the moment to glance back down at the dark waters of the lake below. Just thinking of all the innocent lives that calm lake had swallowed whole, and how close Sam had come to being one of them, made his heart hit the bottom of his stomach all over again. In a way, he was happy not to have been conscious when the Impala was pushed down the steep slope, and he was happy not to have heard the thunderous splash she made as she plowed into the water.

"Hey, c'mon." Sam whispered, his voice pulling the other man away from his scattered thoughts as they continued walking towards the tall grassy field in front of them. Passing the post Dean had been tied to and over a stretch of fencing that had collapsed, the pair started making their way through the field; Sam's goal to find somewhere safe & warm to camp out till Bobby showed up, and Dean's goal to simply keep pace with the younger man that was dragging him along. When they emerged on the other side and their eyes focused on the old run down farmhouse standing not too far form them, both shared a sigh of relief. For Sam, it was refuge and for Dean, it was somewhere he could lay his weary head. "Looks like no one's home to me..." Sam remarked, eyeing the broken windows and boarded doors. "Let's see if we can get inside, place that old has got to have a fireplace we can use to get you warmed up till Bobby comes around."


	3. Caught in the undertow

Chapter 3: Caught in the undertow

Walking towards the old house, Dean couldn't help but take notice of the even older looking barn nearby and the truck up on cinder blocks in the overgrown driveway. In the distance, the dirt road Sam was sure he'd seen on the map. "You were right about the road, Sammy." He groaned, sucking in a breath as they slipped into the old house through the boards that had been nailed to the back door.

"Let's just hope Bobby, can find it." Sam replied, stepping over the dead leaves and debris that littered the dusty floors. The boards creaked under their feet as the pair made their way down a hall, turning into a room they could only assume had been a kitchen. Though an old table and a couple of broken chairs still lay in the middle, the one and only thing Sam could focus on was the small wood stove off to one corner.

"You know, we've stayed in some pretty rundown places." Dean quietly started, wincing in pain as they made their way over to the stove. "But this place is a dump... I think we'd actually be safer outside."

"Safer from what, Dean?" Sam replied, using his foot to kick away debris so his older brother would have somewhere relatively clean to lay down.

"Falling through the floor, for one." Dean continued, swearing under his breath as the other man finally released him from his grip.

"I doubt something this old has a basement." Sam was quick to reply, relieved to see that Dean was still fighting to stay awake and remain conscious, but worried about how much longer the other man could hold on. Just seeing him lay there, curled up on the floor, shivering, hurt, and helpless made his heart ache. Turning his attention back to the small stove in front of him, he pulled the door open and took a quick glance around, looking for anything at all he could use to build a fire. The broken wooden chairs would have done the trick, but when he spotted a scattered pile of cut logs, he knew it was his best bet. He pulled his wet jacket off and tossed it on one of the chairs as he made his way towards the logs and grabbed a few to get started. "You still have those matches on you?" He asked, gathering a pile of dead leaves from the floor by the handful, and shoving them into the stove before placing the logs on top. When he didn't get a reply, he reached over to give the other man a nudge. "Dean, do you still have those matches on you."

"Sam, everything on me is soaked..."

"The leather jacket, Dean." Sam was quick to reply, kneeling down next to his brother and reaching into one of the pockets to pull out the book of matches. Just the thought of being dry and warm again brought some comfort to his troubled mind. His hands were shaking as he struck a match and carefully brought it up to the pile of dead leaves he had made in the stove; smiling when they lit up and the flames started eating away at the logs. "There, now lets just hope the chimney isn't blocked..." He started, speaking only to keep his older brother's attention. When his eyes fell on Dean's bloody hands, he couldn't help but swallow hard. He wasn't sure what happened, but he knew it was bad. "Hey, c'mon sit up, let me have a look at you... see what kind of damage that son of a bitch did." He continued, reaching over to move the leather jacket aside.

Dean winced in pain as he sat up, his shoulder protesting any further movement as his younger brother pulled off the button shirt he was wearing. "Sammy, what happened out there tonight?" He quietly asked, sucking in a breath as the other man hooked a finger through the hole in his T-shirt and tore it open to get a better look at the bullet wound. "The only thing I remember is getting out of the car and getting shot... all of a sudden he's standing in front of me and I get pistol whipped, then it's lights out."

Sam swallowed hard as he examined the small hole in the other man's shoulder, a few inches lower and that bullet could have been fatal. Dean had been lucky, but he wasn't out from under the gun just yet. "Well, you went down before I even got out of the car, Dean." He started, wringing out his older brother's shirt and pressing it up to the wound that had yet to fully stop bleeding. "I mean the guy didn't even stop walking, he took a shot that I was sure hit you square in the chest, and then gave you a smack in the face with the butt of his gun. For a second, I thought you were dead when you hit the ground..." Sam paused for only a moment as the image flashed in the back of his mind. "I thought I was next when the Sheriff turned the gun on me, but he made me grab the keys out of the ignition and open the trunk. I knew where it was heading, all I could think of was reaching for the shotguns hidden under the liner... but one of the men still had a gun to your head, and I was so scared of what they would do to you if I made any sudden moves..." He sucked in a deep breath as he tried to keep his voice from breaking up. "I tossed the keys back at them and I just stood there; begging them to leave you alone when they started dragging you off towards the field. Next thing I knew, my hands were tied together and the Sheriff had a gun to my chest, he told me to get in the trunk... he said that coming to town was the worse mistake we ever made."

"Yeah well sinking by baby was the worse mistake he ever made." Dean groaned, swearing under his breath as the other man pulled away the shirt he had pressed to his chest. "I don't care how many other counties we need to get involved in this, that son of a bitch is going down..."

"Don't get yourself all worked up." Sam cut in, watching as the other man's eyes closed for only a moment. Dean could barely keep his head up.

"All those people didn't deserve to die." Dean whispered.

There was a moment of silence as Sam's eyes once again focused on the other man's bloody hands. "So what happened here?" He quietly asked, reaching out to grab one of Dean's cold hands so he could take a better look at the dozens of gouges that stretched from his wrist to his finger tips.

"When they tied me to the post." Dean started, wincing as his younger brother passed a finger over one of the cuts. "They looped a length of barb wire from the fence around my wrists to keep me in place." He explained, watching as the other man tore a long strip from the shirt in his lap, and began wrapping it around his injured hand. "I guess they really wanted me to stay put."

"Looks like it didn't work." Sam replied with a slight smile, catching his brother's eyes for only a moment before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

"Yeah well, when it dawned on me that you were in the Impala, and I saw her sitting there in the water..." Dean continued, swallowing the lump caught his throat as the emotion packed moment hit him all over again. "Nothing would have been able to stop me from getting to you, and I mean nothing, Sam..." He swore under his breath as the other man tied a knot in the fabric to keep it in place, and then moved on the other hand. "I managed to loosen the ropes and then I ripped my hands out of the barb wire... felt like a bunch of razor blades slicing into me."

"And that cold water didn't help much either, did it?" Sam quietly replied, continuing to wrap up his older brother's injured hand.

"No, that felt like a bunch of pins and needles..."

"How are you feeling now?" Sam asked, tying the second knot. "Is that fire helping you warm up any?" He continued as he grabbed the leather jacket from the floor and draped it over the other man's shoulders. Though he was still soaked to the bone himself, the warmth of the flames burning in the stove nearby, had been enough to stop him from shivering.

"Well I can feel my fingers again." Dean quietly replied, moving them slightly so that the other man could see. "That's a start, right?" He asked, offering what he could of a smile as he leaned back against the kitchen cupboard behind him. When the cell phone in his leather jacket rang, couldn't help but jump; swearing under his breath as the sudden movement pulled at his shoulder. "Son of a bitch..." He hissed, letting his head fall back against the cupboard behind him as Sam reached for the phone.

"Yeah, Bobby?" He started, taking a quick glance around.

_"If you two stay put, I should be able to find you... I managed to trace Dean's phone to a back road just on the outskirts of town."_ The veteran hunter replied, his eyes drifting down to the map on the seat next to him. "_Should be there soon... where are you two right now? You're not on the side of the road in the bush, are ya?"_

"No we're in an old farm house." Sam was quick to reply. "Not sure how many houses there actually are out here, but this one's got a long driveway out front and there's a barn off to one..."

_"Sam, you're describing every other house I've driven by so far."_ Bobby replied as he made a turn off the main road. _"Is there anything about it that stands out I should be looking for?"_

"Just tell him, there's a beater of a pick up truck on blocks out front." Dean whispered.

"Dean says there's an old truck on blocks in the front yard." Sam relayed, eyeing his older brother for only a moment.

_"Alright well you boys just sit tight, I'll keep an eye out for that abandoned farmhouse."_ Bobby replied as he crawled along the stretch of road, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods for the long forgotten house Sam & Dean were squatting in.

"Thanks Bobby, see you soon..." When Sam hung up and caught the other man's eyes, he couldn't help but smile. "He thinks he knows where we are..."

"Good, I can't wait to get the Hell out of here." Dean replied, watching as Sam tossed another log into the stove to feed the fire that was keeping them warm. "And next time." He started, waiting for the other man to look over and catch his eyes. "When you crack a case that's out of our league... What do you say we keep our mouths shut till we're out of town... let the real professionals deal with it. We've got enough shit on our plates as is, no need to add in a bunch of serial killers. I'd rather stick to the demons and monsters thank you very much."

Sam couldn't help but give his brother a nod. "That sounds good to me."

"You better pray my baby still runs when you find a way to pull her out of the drink..." Dean groaned, his halfhearted attempt to lift the mood, enough to make his younger brother smile.

"Let's worry about you first..." Sam quietly replied, watching as the other man's dreary eyes drifted back to the fire burning in front of them. He'd seen Dean recover from some pretty serious injuries in the past, but this was by far, the worse he'd ever seen his brother endure. Truth was, he'd be lying if he said Dean would bounce back like he always did; watching him sit there, weak and exhausted, Sam had his doubts. "Let's worry about you first." He repeated, listening for the sound of Bobby's car coming down that old country road. "Then we'll worry about getting your baby out of the lake..."

"Hey, I think I can hear him coming..." Dean started, watching as the younger man got up from the floor and made his way to the kitchen doorway to have a look down the hall.

The sound of a car engine roaring in the distance was one of the few things Sam thought he would ever get excited about. But as he made his way down the long hall towards the front door, listening to the sound of Bobby's car getting closer, he couldn't help but let the smile creep up to the corner of his lips. That sound meant that help was on the way, that Dean would get the medical attention he so desperately needed and that their nightmare in a small town called Scythe was finally over. Peering out through one of the many cracks in the boarded doorway, he watched as headlights came into view, and then swore under his breath when one of the two trucks that had pulled out behind the Impala at the bar, turned into the driveway.


	4. I owe every breath to you

Chapter 4: I owe every breath to you

When the headlights bounced across the front of the house, casting slivers of light through the cracks in the door frame, Sam felt his breath catch in the back of his throat. Watching the Sheriff and another man step out of the truck, was like watching a horror movie jump to life. Racing back to the kitchen, he caught his older brother's eyes as he rounded the corner. "Come on get up." He started, the panic in his voice hard to miss as he grabbed the other man by the arm and hoisted him up, ignoring the string of swears that followed the rather brisk movement.

Dean barely had the chance to react when Sam dragged him to his feet, not nearly as careful with him as he had been earlier. "Take it easy." He hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the painful jolt in his shoulder spread like wildfire in all directions.

"They must have gone back for you and saw that you were gone..." Sam started, his eyes darting from left to right as he desperately scanned the room they were in for somewhere to hide. "Son of a bitch probably knows these roads like the back of his hands... knew that the house wasn't too far from the lake and saw the smoke in the chimney..."

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?" Dean asked, swearing under his breath as the younger man dragged him down the hall towards a set of stairs near the front of the house.

"The Sheriff, Dean." Sam growled, looking up at the rickety staircase in front of them. "Bobby isn't the one that just pulled up to the house, it's the damn Sheriff." He continued, taking a nervous glance back down the hall towards the kitchen.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Dean asked, watching as the younger man put a heavy foot down on the first step to see if it would be able to support his weight.

"Hide." Sam was quick to reply, slipping his arm out from under Dean and placing the other man's hand on the railing at the bottom of the stairs. "I want you to go upstairs and just find somewhere to hide."

"Dude, are you crazy?" Dean whispered, watching as Sam craned his neck to take another glance down the hall towards the back of the house. "This place is falling apart, I don't think these stairs are..."

"Just stay away from the middle on your way up and you should be fine." The younger man cut in, catching his brother's eyes for only a moment before focusing on what he thought was the beam of a flashlight moving along the side of the house. "You're in no condition to fight... so you need to find somewhere to hide." He continued, reaching down to grab a loose board from the floor at his feet. "Now Dean, GO!" He growled, pointing the other man up the stairs.

The last thing Dean wanted to do was leave his younger brother to deal with the very dangerous men alone, but Sam was right and he knew it; he was in no condition to fight, he could barely hold himself up. He swore under his breath as he clutched the shaky banister with one hand and started making his way up the old creaky stairs, each and every step feeling like the boards were going to give way underneath him. His heart was pounding right out of his chest as he watched Sam dart down the hall back towards the kitchen, his footsteps echoing for a moment as the other man disappeared from sight. His mind was racing with worse case scenarios as he reached the top of the stairs; what would he do if they got the best of Sam? Following the wall to his right, Dean turned into the first room he reached and hurried to make his way towards a closet in the corner. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness weighing heavily on his shoulders, he leaned back against the wall and let himself slide down to the floor. The tears were finally starting to fall and as the pain and fatigue began taking it's toll; all he could do was bring his knees up to his chest and pray that the night from Hell would soon be over... one way or another.

* * *

><p>Hiding behind a small closet door in the hallway near the stairs, Sam sucked in a breath as he watched the Sheriff shine the flashlight between the boards of the back door, whispering something to his accomplice before slipping in the same way he and Dean had. Trying to stay calm, he watched as the pair cautiously made their way into the kitchen. He could hear them talking to each other, but among the whispers, he couldn't make out a word. Now that they had seen the fire burning in the stove, they knew Dean was there somewhere; but what they didn't know, is that he was there as well, and he wasn't going down again without one hell of a fight.<p>

With nothing more than a random board clutched in his tight grip, Sam watched from the darkness of the hall closet as the two men stepped out of the kitchen, flashlights in one hand and guns in the other. Both had their eyes and lights to the floor in front of them as they slowly started to make their way down the hall, their attention more than likely drawn to the wet prints he and his brother had left on the dust covered floor. He swallowed hard, unable to shake the feeling that he was trapped, as he listened to their steps echo eerily in the old abandoned house. The pair were getting closer, and when they came to a stop only a few feet away from the door he has hiding behind, his breath caught in the back of his throat.

"Might as well just come out now." The Sheriff shouted, his voice bouncing off the crumbling walls around them. "I know you're in here, I saw the fire in the stove and all that blood on the floor... Just want to let you know that we're gonna finish what..." He trailed off as the sound of a board creaking overhead caught his attention.

It was a simple sound, but it was enough to send Sam's heart racing as he watched through a crack in the door, the Sheriff point out the stairs at the end of the hall to his accomplice nearby. This was it, and now that they knew the man who'd gotten away was hiding upstairs, that's where they were headed. Two against one and armed, anyone could see that the odds were stacked against him; but Sam didn't care, because no matter what, he wasn't going to let them get to his brother this time. Waiting on pins and needles for just the right moment to strike, his grip on the board tightened as he watched both men start to make their way towards the stairs. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the pair walked right by the closet he was hiding in, unaware that they were now right where he wanted them to be. He took a deep breath, pushed the door open with his foot and caught both men by surprise; putting everything he had into that first swing, he sent the closest man to the floor with a single blow to the back of the head. The flashlight had yet to hit the ground when he quickly turned his attention to the wide-eyed Sheriff standing in front of him in the hall, wasting no time taking a swing at the man who'd forced him into the trunk of the Impala. When the Sheriff simply took a step back and loaded the gun in his grip, Sam knew he was done for.

* * *

><p>On the floor of a small closet upstairs, Dean swore under his breath as the shattering sound of a gunshot made the house around him shake. As if that wasn't enough to destroy what little hope he had left, the sound of a second gunshot, cut him right to the core. For a moment, he could have sworn his heart had stopped beating right then and there... Hearing the commotion downstairs, his mind started flooding with gruesome images of his younger brother lying in a pool of blood at the Sheriff's feet. He swallowed hard, unable to push past the horrifying scene inside his head, and think of a way to get himself out of there without getting caught. He listened with his heart in his throat as the muffled voices died down, leaving the old house in an eerie silence for only a moment, before the distinct sound of footsteps could be heard coming up the rickety stairs.<p>

At that point, fighting for his life seemed like a lost cause. He hated himself for even thinking of it that way, but deep down inside he knew he didn't stand the slightest chance of coming out of this alive. He'd already fought so hard and so long just to stay awake and conscious, for Sam's sake. Lightheaded, exhausted and now on the verge of a breakdown, he was more than willing to just give in, accepting that this was one battle he just wouldn't be able to win. The only thing about it he couldn't quite stomach, was the fact that what he was giving into, wasn't part of what he'd spent his entire life hunting. He'd had close calls in the past; with demons, monsters, and creatures, but this was very different, because there was nothing supernatural about any of this. As a hunter, he knew his time would come much sooner than later, but how he was about to die, was a slap in the face. Crouching in a closet waiting for a bullet with your name on it, is a far cry from going down in a blaze of glory.

As the footsteps reached the top of the stairs just down the hall, and the flashlight hit the wall just outside the room he was hiding in, he did the one and only thing he could do; he closed his eyes. If this was it for him, then the last thing he wanted to see was the man responsible for it all. His heavy heart hit like a hammer with every step that was taken, and before he knew it, he could feel those floor boards move underneath him as the other man entered the room. Anticipating the gunshot that would end it all, he was caught off guard by the familiar voice that broke him from his anguish.

"Dean... it's alright, you're safe." Bobby started, tucking the flashlight in his pocket as he reached down to carefully help the other man to his feet. Sam had told him Dean was in rough shape, but knowing didn't make it any easier on him to witness. Just seeing him hunched over on the floor, Bobby could tell right away that the younger man was giving it his all, just to stay conscious. "Come on get up, I've got you kid..."

His head was spinning as he was once again hoisted off the floor, this time by the veteran hunter who'd come out of nowhere. He'd been so focused on what was going on inside that old run down house, he'd never even heard the other man's car pull up the long driveway "Where's Sam?" He quietly started, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"Bringing my car 'round back so we can get you the Hell out of here." Bobby was quick to reply, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist to help him keep his balance. "Why are you wet?" He asked, just trying to keep the other man's mind occupied until he got him out of the house and into the car.

"Because Sammy, my baby, and I all went for a dip in the lake." Dean replied, putting a hand out to steady himself against the railing as they started down the stairs.

"Your car is in the lake?" Bobby was quick to ask, careful with his steps so the other man could keep up pace.

"Yeah, along with all the other one's that have been missing for the past twenty years." Dean paused for a moment as he took a deep breath, his body starting to shake again as a shiver went down his spine. "We're the one's that got away, Bobby."

"Yeah, by the skin of your teeth..."

Dean was going to ask about the gunshots he'd heard, but as they reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the hall, his eyes fell to the bodies on the floor. The events of the night were still a whirlwind in his head, but he knew what had happened. "Bobby, there's two more of them somewhere... they were."

"We'll worry about them later." The other man interrupted, hurrying down the hall and out the back door to where Sam was waiting with his car. "Right now, we need to get you to a hospital."

"I don't want to go back to Scythe." Dean whispered, wincing in pain as the veteran hunter tightened his grip.

"I'm not taking you to Scythe.. There's another small town just up the road from here, I'm taking you there." Bobby explained, almost carrying the other man's full weight by the time they reached his car.

With Sam and Bobby's help, Dean slid into the back seat of the car, swearing under his breath as the pain in his shoulder reminded him of the events that had dragged him through Hell. Now that he knew they were both safe, that Sam was alive and Bobby was there to look after things; his racing mind started to slow and before he knew it, he couldn't even fight to keep his eyes open.

As they pulled out of the long driveway, Bobby adjusted his rearview mirror to take a glance at the man lying across the back seat of his car. "When you told me it was bad, I didn't think it was this bad..." He admitted, speaking only to break the moment of silence and pull Sam's eyes away from the Sheriff's truck still parked in front of the old house. When the younger man finally looked over at him, he knew tonight's ordeal was one the pair would need time to get over. He'd been keeping a brave face for his brother's sake, but now that Dean had finally given in to the pain and exhaustion, Sam was the one on the verge of a breakdown.

"I didn't know what to do, Bobby." Sam quietly started, his voice shaking as his mind drifted back through the past couple of hours. "Dad trained us to fight demons and monsters, not people... I didn't know what to do."

Bobby sucked in a breath as he watched the man beside him pass a hand over his face. "Sometimes there's no difference." He replied simply, his grip on the wheel tightening as he turned his attention back to the dark road ahead. "It's alright now, Sam."

"What about the bodies in the house?" Sam said, his mind still racing with what had been left behind. "The Sheriff's truck is still parked out front and there's still two other guys out there..."

"I'll take care of it, don't you worry about that." The veteran hunter cut in, his own anger starting to surface as he thought of what those men had done to his boys. "Just like I told your brother... you're safe now."

Sam let out a sigh as the sound of the car's roaring engine brought something else to mind. "You think the Impala's still going to run when we pull her from the lake?" He asked, turning in his seat to take a look at the unconscious man behind him. If it wasn't for Dean, he knew he would have drowned in the trunk of that car.

"Well we're going to have to drain and replace everything from the oil to the gas, then get the water out of the engine and dry out the plugs..." Bobby explained, his eyes drifting up to the rearview mirror for only a moment. "But I think she should still run by the time I'm done with her."

"I'm sure Dean will be happy to hear that..." Sam quietly replied, happy to know that their nightmare, was finally over.

Thanks for reading :)  
>~ Shugs<p> 


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